


pearly whites

by justwhatialwayswanted



Series: Foxes Always Win (or, Don't Piss Off Hemmick's Gang) [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Gen, Mob Boss Nicky, and allison is mentioned, because i'm obsessed with this concept, dark!Nicky, dark!Renee, everyone else is just normal levels of dark but that's pretty dark compared to normal people so, it's not like GOREY gorey but it gets bloody, the andreil is VERY background, wow my first m-rated fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25756153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwhatialwayswanted/pseuds/justwhatialwayswanted
Summary: Smiling is an interesting thing.Nicky’s seen all sorts of smiles, by this point, from Aaron’s face when he’s with Katelyn to Neil’s after a kill. The whole spectrum, sweet to bloodthirsty (or maybe ‘acidic,’ if you will). And he’s got his own fair share of smiles as well.Right now, for example.It’s been a while since someone has managed to really piss Nicholas Hemmick off. But this guy, the one who attempted to stalk him, is doing a pretty good job of it.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: Foxes Always Win (or, Don't Piss Off Hemmick's Gang) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870927
Comments: 11
Kudos: 63





	pearly whites

**Author's Note:**

> cw: torture (not that intense, esp compared to aftg, but it is an interrogation), mouth gore

Smiling is an interesting thing.

Nicky’s seen all sorts of smiles, by this point, from Aaron’s face when he’s with Katelyn to Neil’s after a kill. The whole spectrum, sweet to bloodthirsty (or maybe ‘acidic,’ if you will). And he’s got his own fair share of smiles as well.

Right now, for example.

Anyone who happened to glance into this semi-abandoned warehouse would know what was happening right away. The single bright, almost industrial light, the glint of blades at wrists and sides and legs, the miserable-looking person tied to a single hard chair in the center of it all.

Nicky had known someone was doing their best to stalk him for a few hours before he actually let the trap, coordinated with the rest of the team over text, spring closed. It happens— or, it happened. Nobody's tried to mess with him in a while, not since he turned the Butcher's whole empire inside out with a team of under a dozen people.

It took some time before people learned to respect Nicholas Hemmick. But they learned, and those who didn't soon found their opinions forcibly swayed. He finished cleaning up a long time ago, which means it’s been a while since someone has managed to really piss Nicky off. 

But this guy, the one who attempted to stalk him, is doing a pretty good job of it.

And honestly, Nicky’s pretty excited for the moment when he realizes that the friendly, compassionate smile Nicky is currently sporting is nothing more than a facade.

Aaron is patching up Neil in the corner, as Andrew pretends he’s not watching, which leaves Renee and Nicky to deal with this creep. When it’s the two of them, they switch off who plays good cop— or, at least, who plays good cop until the person realizes that there is no such thing.

Renee’s hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail that Nicky knows Allison did for her before she arrived, and since it’s her turn to be mean, she’s come directly from the Andrew Minyard School of Fashion. Which is to say, black on black on black. Nicky, by contrast, is wearing exactly what he wore when he led the creep into Andrew and Neil’s trap: a soft blue sweater over a white button-down and khakis. He’s even got brown oxfords. It’s kind of a look. (And all machine washable.)

And, of course, he’s got his smile.

“Come on, don’t be too harsh,” he murmurs to Renee, just barely loud enough that the creep will hear the fake guilt he’s layered into his tone. Standing next to her, he knows he looks frail, tall but narrow, smiling like he's ready to apologize for being alive. “I mean, we all get orders from someone, don’t we? It’s nothing personal. I’m sure we can work something out with him.”

Renee glares at him for a moment (and if he didn’t know this was an act, he’d be scared) before turning back to face the creep. She’s got brass knuckles, Nicky distantly notices. Hm. He would  _ not _ want to face Renee armed with brass knuckles, not even with his knives. She was the one who taught him how to use them, after all. “I’m not pleased with you,” she informs the creep. “And I’m not happy about having to come down here in the middle of the night. You’re going to want to make this fast.”

The creep— Nicky should probably figure out his name— scoffs. “Or what?”

Ooo, bad question. Nicky lets himself wince when Renee stalks forward and breaks one of the man’s lower ribs with one punch.

“You’ve got twenty-three more where that came from,” she says. “If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll do all twenty-three before moving on to something a bit sharper.”

She doesn’t need to acknowledge the wickedly long knife strapped to her thigh for everyone in the room to know what she means. The creep visibly swallows, and Renee’s own smile comes out to play, something dark and sharp and satisfied. "Now, do you think I'll need to do all twenty-three?"

But he just sets his jaw and stares at her. Renee maintains eye contact for a few seconds, letting her eyes narrow into a glare before the smile vanishes. "Hm. I guess we'll find out." And she turns and walks away, toward the bag she dropped in the corner before coming over to help Nicky. It's quite obviously full of weapons a lot more varied than the brass knuckles and that one knife.

Yeah, she definitely came directly from Allison's. She's the one who stocks most of their extra weaponry, and Renee doesn't usually need to keep too much around, besides her own set of knives.

That's Nicky's cue, and he steps forward, just a little, just enough that Renee can plausibly pretend not to hear their conversation. "Look, dude, things could have been worse," he says quietly, carefully. "There's no reason that this has to get messy. I'm the one you were following, right? If you help us out, I can get you out of here, no hard feelings. You don't want to give her an excuse to get creative." He shudders, just a tiny bit, and slaps that small, friendly smile firmly back on his face before saying, "Trust me, we'll all be better off if you don't."

The creep rolls his eyes, and Nicky just barely avoids getting spat upon. It still lands within an inch of his shoes. Ew. He sighs, and smoothes his hands over his sweater in a way that he knows looks nervous.

A few moments, later, Renee returns with an honest-to-God utility belt of weapons. How very Batman of her. In the corner, Aaron is packing up his med bag, and Neil is drinking— is that a Capri Sun? Huh. Wonder where he got that. Andrew, now that Neil's well and truly 'fine,' is wandering back over to the interrogation side of the room, staring at his phone like he doesn't really care what's going on over here.

But Nicky knows he does, because now is when it gets exciting.

"Who's paying you?" Renee asks, something small and shiny and serrated in her right hand.

Apparently not satisfied with his earlier attempts, the creep spits again. It doesn't land anywhere near Renee, and her face doesn't change. But she does say, "Do that again and I'll cut out your salivary glands. Now." She flips her grip on the knife. "I said, who's paying you?"

"Fuck off, bitch."

"Tattoos," Andrew says, sounding as if he's sitting through the world's most boring speech. He flicks through a couple of things on his phone before saying, without looking up, "Left forearm."

Renee nods to him and approaches the creep. "You get one more try. Who—" she steps right in front of him— "is—" she rests the tip of the knife on the creep's inner forearm— "paying—" the knife starts to dig in— "you?"

And she twists it.

To his credit, for determination if not intelligence, the creep still doesn't say anything, except for one choked-off sound that might have been a cry of pain.

Renee draws the knife out slowly, considers the bit of blood on it, and wipes the flat of the blade on his cheek. "I'll let you think about it. But not for long. Get your thoughts together."

Nicky widens his eyes at the creep, who makes eye contact for a moment before looking back at Renee. Hm, someone isn't interested in the good cop. That's okay. Nicky will bide his time. He's not really looking to make a deal, anyway.

In the corner, Neil finishes his Capri Sun and starts to stand, leaning on the wall for support. Almost before Nicky can blink, Andrew's over there, saying something that sounds a lot like "Sit down, idiot" in German. Aaron is playing some kind of game on his phone. Oh, to be the team doctor and not have anything to do once you finish dealing with Neil's stupid injury of the week.

Meanwhile, Renee is done waiting.

She slices through Creepy McCreep's sleeve, letting the fabric flutter apart to reveal a silhouette of a bird in black ink, captured mid-flight on his arm. "Of course."

"Of course," Nicky agrees with a sigh that is exaggeratedly sad. Just for the sake of the creep, and keeping up the act.

"Moriyamas?" Neil says from the ground, where he is now sitting.

"Moriyamas," Renee confirms before turning back to the creep. "So that's one question answered. Let's move on, shall we?" When he doesn't respond, she continues anyway. "What, exactly, was the assignment that landed you in here?"

The man glares, but his gaze also flickers to Nicky for a moment. Renee catches it, gives him time to speak, and when he doesn't, calls to Andrew, "Come hold his head still."

Andrew does. "What are we starting with?"

"Hm. Mouth, I think. I did make that promise about the salivary glands. Open up."

Nicky allows himself to look profoundly disgusted as Renee takes the man's jaw with one hand and forcibly opens it. (He's seen worse, but there's no reason that the creep needs to know that.) "Don't bite down," she advises. "The slower we go, the more chances you get to make it stop."

She makes sure that the creep sees the knife (it's definitely serrated) as she brings it up, not slow, but not fast either, to his face. Like she has all the time in the world. Andrew keeps the man's head steady as Renee brings the tip of the knife up to his mouth, then frowns deliberately and says, "Hmm, his lips are getting a bit in the way," before shrugging and moving the blade to the corner of his mouth instead before slowly starting to slice in.

The blood runs all the way to his chin and drips onto Renee's arm, but she acts like she doesn't notice. (Also, Allison's pretty good at getting blood out of clothes, as long as they get to her fast enough.)

"Better," Renee says eventually, when she's dragged the knife out, then down. The man has stayed silent the whole time, and almost still, except for a wince that Andrew flicked him hard for. "Other side first and then meet in the middle, or go all the way around?" Nominally, the question is to Andrew, but Renee doesn't look away from the man's face, and Nicky knows for a fact that Andrew could not care less how Renee goes about this.

But finally,  _ finally, _ the creep's eyes turn towards Nicky, with a hint of hopeful desperation, and he makes a sound that might be pleading or it might just be from the pain.

Either way, this man is looking at Nicky like he's salvation. So Nicky enunciates as crisply as he can when he says calmly, "All the way around."

And he watches the hope in the man's eyes crumble.

"Stop," the man croaks, as best as he can with a ruined lip. 

"Let me tell you something," Nicky says as Renee wipes her knife on the creep's forehead. "You shouldn't have accepted this assignment. Do you know why?"

Creepy McCreep just stares, wild-eyed. Nicky slips his hands into his pockets and tilts his head, considering him for a moment. "Do you?" When there's no response except for panicked breaths, shallow because Renee's knife is so close that one small movement could mean disaster, he shrugs and continues. "Because I know what I'm doing. Nobody who comes after me gets away. I thought the Moriyamas would have learned that by now, but I guess not. We'll just have to make a statement with your body so they know they messed up." 

And then Nicky smiles at him, wide and friendly, charming as he knows how, and says, "And if you tell us what we want to know, we'll even kill you quickly. How's that for a deal?"

They break him without Nicky having to lift a finger.


End file.
